


The Hole in my Kevlar Soul

by digitalcatnip



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, So we made some up, This was written before the original CrimeFest so we had no info on Hoxton in prison etc.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 20:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13419438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digitalcatnip/pseuds/digitalcatnip
Summary: A simple job goes horribly wrong, and things change dramatically for everyone.





	The Hole in my Kevlar Soul

**Author's Note:**

> The first real fic I'd written in something like 5 years, and the one that sealed my reputation as "the guy that writes the Sad stuff." Originally posted on Tumblr in 2014, edited very minimally since then to preserve it faithfully (just removed some poorly translated stuff lol.) It was part of a series but the other chapters were "meh" and this one stands on its own :)
> 
> Title is a line from the song Kevlarsjäl by Kent.
> 
> You can follow me @cataouatche on Tumblr!

* * *

 

It was not going well.

It was supposed to be a routine job:  Bust a few armoured vehicles, take the gold, intel, and whatever else was in there, and get the fuck out.  Lay low for a few days, then begin phase two.  Just like Heat.

The job had gone perfectly.  The hijacked 18-wheeler took out the second vehicle with precision, sliding it across the road like a matchbook car into the first.  Five seconds to set the C4, five minutes to clean the place out.

The problem arose when they blew open the doors to the second truck.  After the smoke settled enough to see through, the four of them quickly ducked from around the sides of the van, ready to get to work.  Instead of a truck of lockboxes, however, they were faced with a man in a bomb suit, holding a shotgun.

“It’s over, assholes!”

Chains fired his shotgun into the Bulldozer’s face, shattering the plate of polycarbonate cover its face.  Wolf and Hoxton dropped to the ground and rolled underneath the truck.  Dallas began unloading his pistol into the dozer, but gave up the fight after Chains took five bullets to the stomach.  Fortunately, they were all wearing heavy ballistics armour, and the worst damage Chains would suffer would be some nasty bruises.

Police sirens blared in the distance, heading their way fast.  Bain was screaming in their ears to get somewhere safe with what they had and hold out for the driver.

Wolf saw the bulldozer drop down out of the truck, following after Dallas and Chains, and took his chance.  Darting out from under the truck and around the side, he lifted his shotgun and fired a slug through the bulldozer’s helmet.  The man in the bomb suit crumpled, red liquid seeping out between the seams.

Wolf tried to control his breathing as he ran into the parking garage where Chains and Dallas were crouching behind a concrete wall.  He ducked behind the wall just as a bullet took out a chunk of concrete where his head had been moments before.

“Fucking hell,” Dallas hissed.  “They knew we were planning this and they sent a fucking dozer to take us out.  What the fuck are we supposed to do now?”

“Just hang tight til the driver gets there.  How much did you get out of the trucks?” Bain answered him through the headset.

Dallas shuffled through the bag at his feet.  “Looks like a few thousand in cash, couple diamonds…” He swore.  “No intel.  It must be on the other truck.”

“Shit. You’re going to have to go back in there.”

Police were already beginning to surround the area. 

“It’ll be suicide, mate,” Hoxton replied, peering over the concrete wall.  There were at least three shields out there, and a dozen SWAT, guns all trained on the trucks.

Chains was busy reloading his shotgun with armour-piercing rounds.  “We’re going to have to try, or we’ll have come out here for nothing.”  He chambered a round.  “We’ve gotten out of worse scrapes before.”

Dallas squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of a plan.  “Okay, okay.  Hoxton, stay here and take out as many as you can from a distance.  Try to keep moving.  Wolf, I’m going to need you in the truck with me to help me look for the intel.  Chains, hold the fort at the back of the truck.”

Everyone nodded.

Wolf followed Dallas, crouching behind the wall.  When they got a good enough distance away, Hoxton popped up over the barrier and fired a shot into the helmet of a shield.  He dropped like a stone, but his partners sprang into action.  Hoxton dropped two more cops before they could find out where he was and peppered the concrete with bullets.   Chains jumped out from hiding and ran headlong into them, his steel-tipped rounds punching through the last shield.

Dallas and Wolf ducked into the truck among the chaos.  Wolf pulled a small saw out of his bag, and set to work removing the locks on the lockboxes.  Two of the SWAT team turned to face them, and Dallas dispatched them easily.

“There’s another truck coming,” Hoxton’s voice crackled through the headsets.

Wolf’s jaw tightened as he heard the crack of Hoxton’s rifle and the metal-on-concrete scream of the tires being shredded.  The saw chewed through the lockboxes, revealing the contents.

“Dallas, there’s nothing here.”  Wolf’s voice was verging on panic.

“Look again!”

“Dallas I can see every box from where I’m standing, there is nothing in them!”

“Fuck!” Dallas yelled, slamming his fist on the wall.  “Bain, what the hell?”

In their ear, Bain was scrambling.  “I don’t know, guys, I don’t know what went wrong!”  The crew could hear him typing rapidly in the background.  “I’ve routed a helicopter to you guys; he should be there in a couple minutes.  Find somewhere safe to hold with what you have.  You’ll get paid, I promise.”

“We’d better,” Dallas hissed, and jumped out of the truck.  “We’re bailing!  Get on top of the parking garage!” he yelled into the microphone.

SWAT units were pouring out of the car Hoxton had shot down, lining up on the street.  Dallas fired cover shots at them, and they returned with vigor.

“Cover fire won’t scare them; ya gotta shoot for the kill!” They heard Hoxton yell over the headset.  A crack, and two SWAT dropped.

Wolf unleashed a spray from his rifle as he ran into the garage and past Hoxton.  The sharpshooter dispatched another SWAT before turning and running after his teammates. 

They heard a helicopter on the roof.   “Bain, is that you?” Dallas asked.

“What?  No!  The chopper is still a minute away at least!”

“Shit,” Dallas swore, and ducked into a service stairway.  “This is bad.”

Wolf dropped to the ground and pulled a gray case out of his bag and dropped it on the floor.  Within seconds, the sentry had been set up and pushed out of the door.   “This should help keep them off of us for a little while at least.”

They sat in a circle in the stairway, trying to catch their breaths, listening for the helicopter Bain promised them.  It wasn’t long before Wolf’s sentry whirred to life, filling the air with the sound of machine fire.

“We have to go, now, helicopter or not,” Chains said, jumping up.  The rest followed suit, gripping weapons with white knuckles. 

Wolf took a deep breath and jumped out into the garage, howling like a maniac.  The panic of moments before melted away, replaced with a crazy energy as he watched helmets fly off in front of him. 

They pushed forward, through the waves of SWAT before them.   They were almost to the top of the garage when Chains broke the relative silence in their ears with a pained yell.

Dallas whipped around to see Chains pressing his hand to his shoulder, and a dark stain spreading rapidly from underneath.   Dallas’ head whipped around, and Chains exclaimed that he was fine, just keep moving.

They heard the roar of the helicopter above them.  Bain’s voice crackled into their headsets.  “He’s there; get up to the roof, quick!”

Wolf put a round through the chest of the last SWAT in front of them, and the four all bolted toward the helicopter, which had just tossed down a ladder.  One by one, they jumped onto it, and began climbing.

Hoxton was at the bottom, turning around to look at the exit of the garage, where yet another wave was pouring onto the garage roof.  He provided cover for his teammates as they went up, firing awkwardly one-handed into the line of law enforcement.  Bullets sang around him, nearly hitting him several times.  One enforcer dropped his gun and shook his hand.  Hoxton chuckled to himself.

Hoxton took the opportunity the distraction had granted him to gain some height on the ladder.  His chest was heaving and his arms ached from running and hanging onto this ladder and shooting.  He was only ten feet off of the ground when he heard a sound behind him that made his blood run cold.

The TASER had been turned up to max, and the sensation of the prongs embedding themselves in his flesh was like being struck by a train.  Hoxton’s entire body seized, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think.  The sky pitched upwards in his vision, and he realized in a shock of horror that he was falling.

 

 

Wolf nearly jumped out of the helicopter, thirty feet off of the ground.  “Hoxton!  Hoxton get up!” he screamed into his headset, staring down at the ground where his friend’s crumpled body lay.  Hoxton had fallen on top of the TASER, which cushioned his fall, but he was not moving yet.  “Hoxton!”  Wolf’s voice was rapidly rising in octaves.

Dallas leaned out of the helicopter, spraying bullets at the rapidly approaching SWAT team.   He had to hold out…Hoxton could wake up any second and be able to grab hold long enough for them to lift out of harm’s way.

 

 

On the ground, Hoxton’s breaths were shallow and rapid, but he was conscious.  His head was in agonizing pain, and the gunfire above him was only exacerbating the problem.  He could hear Wolf in his ear, yelling at him to get up.  _Okay Wolfman, I’m trying_.

 He forced himself to stand, trying to ignore the waves of pain and nausea that washed over him.  He could see the ladder still dangling where it had been, and he took a step towards it.  His legs gave out from underneath him and he fell to his knees, vision swimming.

“Come on, buddy, get back up and fight!” Dallas screamed in his ear.

Hoxton tried again, but he couldn’t get his arms and legs to move in a coordinated manner.   He didn’t know where his gun was, and he heard footsteps coming toward him quickly. 

“Hoxton!  Hoxton please, grab the ladder and hang on!”  Wolf’s voice was a shriek.

 _I’m trying, Wolf, I’m trying so hard_ … Hoxton reached out to where he thought the ladder was, but his hand grasped only air.   He tried again, but missed.  Arms wrapped around him, and he slumped forward.

 

 

Dallas was out of bullets, and he could no longer keep the law off of Hoxton.  He watched in horror as his teammate struggled to grab the ladder, only to be overtaken by SWAT.  Wolf was screaming unintelligibly, ripping his mask off his face so his voice would carry farther as he leaned out of the chopper.  SWAT members began climbing the ladder, and Dallas grabbed Wolf’s gun and put the rest of his clip into the chest of the topmost.  Chains was struggling to stop the bleeding in his arm, dangerously close to passing out himself, unable to help.

With no more ammo, and the law climbing up rapidly, Dallas had no other choice.  He motioned to the pilot to take off, and went to unclip the ladder from the floor when Wolf stopped him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, panic turning his voice into a high pitched scream.

“We have to go.  We have no other choice.”

A multitude of emotions crossed over Wolf’s normally blank face.  “No.”

Dallas unhooked one half of the ladder.  “We have to.”

Wolf punched him.  “No!” he screamed and dropped to the floor of the helicopter.  Below them, SWAT were dragging Hoxton away, his face bloody.  “Hoxton!  Get up Hoxton come on hurry we have to go!”

Dallas put a hand on Wolf’s shoulder, but he wrenched it off.

“Hoxton!  Hoxton please!  Hoxton!”  He saw Hoxton stir, but a SWAT member put him out with a gun butt to the side of the head.

Dallas had to grab Wolf around the chest before the Swede threw himself out of the helicopter.  Wolf struggled against him, clawing at the side of the helicopter door.  Dallas was having trouble hanging onto him.  Wolf was four inches taller than he was, and fueled by adrenaline.

“Hoxton!” Wolf screamed into the wind.  “Hoxton please…Jim please wake up, please Jim wake up…”  His voice broke.  The parking garage was a mere speck in the distance now.

Dallas loosened his grip around his friend, and stepped away.  Wolf rounded on him, eyes wild and red.

“What the fuck are you thinking?  What the fuck are you thinking?  How could you leave him?”

“Wolf, I had to, if we stayed we all would be where he is.”

Wolf grabbed Dallas around the neck and slammed him into the side of the helicopter.   “He was part of our team, Dallas, nobody gets left behind in the team, what about that?  What about all your bullshit about family?  Would you leave your brother out there to die?”

Dallas looked away, tears burning in his eyes.

Wolf shook him violently, begging, pleading.

Dallas closed his eyes, preparing to take whatever Wolf had to give him.

Wolf’s heavy breathing became a struggle to hold back sobs, and he released Dallas to slowly sink to the floor.  Dallas slid down the wall and into the seat.  He looked across at Chains, who met his eyes.   His expression showed many of the same thoughts as Wolf.  Dallas glanced over at Wolf, sitting on the floor, palms up, staring blankly down at the ground out of the door of the helicopter.

Dallas put his head in his hands.  Had he made the right decision?  Would they have been better off had he stayed?  Or gone down to get Hoxton himself?

Was it worth the trust of his team?

 

 

The fact that Wolf and Chains refused to look or walk near him on the way into the safe house made him realized that no, no it was not.


End file.
